


Hold My Hand

by absinthedream



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: Fatherhood, Gen, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 00:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17172188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/absinthedream/pseuds/absinthedream
Summary: Even in all this cold and darkness, the small boy sparkled like a miraculous star.





	Hold My Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Xiaolin Showdown (C) Christy Hui

Master Fung loved winter. 

Watching the trees slowly shed their leaves, boiled in a tea before steeping back into the soil. The snow that gathered on top in feathery dunes, leftover down collecting in the nooks and crannies of the bird cage. Frost painting the koi pond in a sheet of glass. Shy flowers blushing and bashful of the chill. 

The steaming kettle whistles of your breath as you marveled at the night sky, filled with more stars and prophecies than one man could comprehend. 

Some might look around and sneer at the barren branches, suffering a ripened nose and shivering at the bitterness in the air. But the elder monk saw the truth in the red robin breasts cuddling for warmth inside their birdhouses, the crackling of the fireplace he sat before. The village people milling about down the mountain and holding hands as they tromped along the pearly hills.

This was a time of rebirth. A cycle of renewal. For many families, it was a fresh start. A season of counting blessings and making wishes. 

Togetherness. 

He wondered what the baby swaddled in his arms would ask for, if only it could.

He was a tiny thing, with even more delicate hands. Master Fung had been resting near the warm tinder for what felt like hours, joints aching, roasting in his vomit-splattered robes, but it was worth it to see the infant finally settle down after an extreme bout of colic.

Dojo was the one who heard the knock a week ago. The temple did not get many visitors this time of year, maybe one or two kind men and women brandishing baked goods to keep him and his brothers toasty and full. But it had been well past midnight when his green friend had stumbled into his room, wide eyed and upset. 

There was no note in the basket, simply a crying child and a patchwork blanket. He could only just make out the footprints in the snow. 

Master Fung might have wanted to be a father, in another life. 

Being human, it was hard not to feel some semblance of paternal protectiveness (however temporary; he had to consider the orphanage the other monks suggested), but he tried to remain impersonal, in case someone came looking for the babe. 

That task proved difficult when he took the boy to the market. Countless people had crowded around him to peek at the precious sprout of life strapped securely to his chest, a haphazard, improvised mess of sashes he had hastily tied together before boarding Dojo. Very much awake, and nervous as he stared up at the swath of blurry shapes, the baby had wrapped fragile digits around his larger finger and refused to let go.

Despite his protests, their wisdom, and the cartload of supplies Dojo grudgingly carried on the flight home, were free of charge.

This indeed felt like a different reality. One where Master Fung was scared, and lost, and that somehow made him stronger.

But as he rocked him to sleep that third night, belly full and diaper clean, finger once again stuck in his grip, the elder could not help but wonder if those two worlds were so different after all. 

"Delivery!" Dojo slithering into the room with a basket of laundry startled him, jolting hard enough in his spot for his spine to pop. "Gotta be at least three fresh robes in here. Yeesh, you'd think the kid woulda' run outta _up_ ta _chuck_ by now..."

The withering glare Master Fung fixed him with quickly silenced the reptile. He sighed. "Thank you, Dojo." So much for peace and quiet.

Right on cue, the baby stirred, soft features screwing up in frustration. The Lindworm glided over and peered down at the infant just as he opened his big, brown eyes. "Humans are so...squishy. Cute, but not very practical." 

He was not fooled by his gripes. The master had caught his scaly companion gently swaying the crib many times, watching over their youngest with curiosity. They had both fallen for the boy, and he for them, especially the dragon and his highly _pullable_ red beard. 

"I did not realize destroying Atlantis was considered utilitarian." Laughing quietly as Dojo bopped his head with a wooden rattle, which the little one seemed to find greatly amusing, he glanced out the window. Fluffy snowflakes were cascading onto the garden outside. Ice dripped from the gutters. Stepping out to let the fire weep out of his body, even for just a moment, sounded heavenly. 

After tugging stocking caps onto himself and the baby, Master Fung carefully stepped out to the porch, dragon friend not far behind. Frost shimmered like beads strung along the railing, the light of the full moon decorating the grounds in shadows fit for a nutcracker ballet. 

He crunched down the stairs with purpose, breathing deeply in relief as cold air trickled into his lungs. The young boy looked around, mouth open and head tilted, trying to see anything and everything. A bit of drool dribbled down his lip. 

"You think if I got a bucket of this stuff we could make ice cream with it?"

"I see nothing wrong with that." Dojo had an amazing appetite, and it showed in the speed he used to dart back inside to grab a container. If only _other chores_ proved to be as rewarding. 

Looking back up at the sky, Master Fung sputtered as snow assaulted his face in fat clumps. However, in his hold the infant giggled, eyes crossing to follow a flake before it landed on his nose. His little gloved hand found a place of purchase on his chest, and the elder melted.

So innocent. 

So resilient. 

So inquisitive.

"Oh Omi..."

So passionate for life.

How could he give that up?

"I will be what I can for you."

Even in all this cold and darkness, the small boy sparkled like a miraculous star. 

The old man smiled softly as their eyes locked, curling his finger through his as the snow continued to fall.

"Hopefully that will be enough."


End file.
